An old man hung huddled up against a wall, trying to speak to someone. Trying to speak to him. The old man widened his eyes and mouthed a name in question. “Keldron?” There had been no noise to the voice, and yet he heard it as clearly as if he were there. Thrown back to himself for just a moment, Keldron lurched out of the building and into the slate-grey afternoon light of the Ardican winter.
He saw Joleen in the distance, but couldn"t control his own movements. The yellow-haired member of the Merdonese tribe, for a while now Keldron"s closest companion, came running over to him, her eyes full of concern. She ran her hand over his face and cupped his chin.
“Keldron what is it? You look like you have seen a ghost.”
Keldron could not speak. Even to respond to the honeyed tones of one th
